Without A Clue
by Collegekid2006
Summary: The Psych cast gets thrown into Shawn's wild game of weapons, rooms and...muuuurrrder. Based on a challenge to use the Psych characters as Clue characters. Warning- lots of references to the movie Clue.
1. Chapter 1

A bolt of lightning knifed across the sky, illuminating the ancient house on the hill in an ominous light.

Detective Lassiter pulled his coat tighter against him as he ran up the long driveway, eager to get out of the cold wind and rain. He finally reached the mansion's front door, which was adorned with an iron lion's head knocker and a hand-printed sign that read PLEASE KNOCK.

"Spencer!" He shouted at the door, ignoring the sign. "Spencer! I'm here! What the _hell _is going on?"

Another crash of thunder shattered the night, but the dark house remained silent.

"He's probably not even here," Lassiter muttered to himself. "I can't believe I actually fell for it…"

He turned to leave, nearly colliding with Juliet, who had suddenly appeared on the step behind him.

"O'Hara!" He barked, surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, pulling a folded paper out of her pocket. "I got this letter from Shawn saying to meet him here at 9 PM on Halloween night."

"Yeah. I got one, too." Lassiter confirmed, his eyes suddenly growing wide. "Oh, God! I didn't lock my desk drawer! He's probably at the station right now! Going through my stuff…_touching_ things…"

He was about to make a run through the storm back to his car, but at that moment the mansion door swung open. Shawn was standing in the doorway, wearing a charcoal gray suit, complete with tails.

"Good evening." He greeted in a low, eerie voice.

"Spencer!" Lassiter growled. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"If you'll step inside, Sir," Shawn replied with a twinkling eye. "The other guests have already arrived."

"Other guests?" Juliet repeated, walking into the house without a moment of hesitation. "Who else is coming?"

Shawn didn't answer. He waited until Detective Lassiter finally decided to come in out of the rain, then clasped his hands smartly behind his back and strode ahead of them through the large foyer, not for a moment breaking his butler character.

"If you'll just follow me, Ma'am. Sir. All your questions will be answered."

Lassiter and Juliet exchanged curious glances, then shrugged and followed Shawn into the study.

What other choice did they have?

Inside the study, they were surprised to discover that there were, in fact, other guests.

Four of them, to be exact.

Sitting alone on the couch in the center of the room was Gus. As the detectives entered, he glanced up at them questioningly, clearly as confused about what was going on as they were.

Henry was standing alone by the fireplace, silently taking everything in as he poked absently at the blaze.

Karen Vick was standing in the corner, staring at the fourth guest, who was laying facedown on the floor, a chalk outline drawn around his body.

Juliet almost laughed when she realized it was Buzz.

"Can I interest anyone in fruit or desert?" Shawn asked, closing the study door behind him.

"Drop the butler act, Shawn." Henry growled. "Just tell us what the hell we're doing here. And why are you wearing my suit?"

Shawn sighed, breaking character for the first time.

"Rentals were, like, 70 bucks, Dad. Stealing is free."

"I want it back." Henry muttered. "And you'd better not get any fruit or dessert on it, either."

"Can I interrupt, here?" Chief Vick spoke up for the first time. "I have an obvious question…Mr. Spencer, why is Buzz lying facedown on the floor?"

Buzz lifted his head.

"I'm the body!" He grinned.

"Bodies don't talk, Buzz." Shawn reminded him.

Buzz immediately closed his mouth and laid back down.

"Right . Sorry. I keep forgetting."

"Body?" Juliet's eyebrows were arching with interest. "What's going on, Shawn?"

Shawn turned off one of the lights, casting the room into partial darkness as the shadow of the fire danced on the walls.

"Muuuurder." He intoned darkly.

"Someone murdered McNab?" Lassiter snorted. "Makes sense. It was just a matter of time…though I always figured they'd shoot you first, Spencer."

"Why would someone shoot me, Sir?" Shawn asked innocently, slipping back into the butler character. "I'm just the butler."

"You don't even know what a butler does!" Lassiter shot back.

"I buttle, Sir."

"Shawn!" Henry snapped, rapidly losing patience with this game. "You told me we were having dinner…there's no dinner, is there?"

"Not until you solve the murder."

"Buzz's murder?" Vick clarified, glancing down at Buzz again, who was doing a surprisingly good job portraying a corpse.

He hadn't scratched his itchy leg in three whole minutes.

"Exactly!" Shawn grinned. "Someone here…murdered Buzz. And you all have to figure out who it was."

He held up a piece of paper, then dramatically put it in his breast pocket.

"I have the murderer's name written down. Throughout the night, you'll uncover clues as to what happened. At 7 AM tomorrow, I'll reveal the killer's identity."

"7 AM?" Gus asked, his brow furrowing. "Why 7 AM?"

"The people who own the house get back at 8." Shawn explained breezily. "And it'll take me at least an hour to clean up and get the security system back up and running."

"Security system?" Chief Vick suddenly sounded concerned. "Mr. Spencer, please tell me we're not breaking and entering."

"We're not." Shawn promised, then added as an afterthought, "…entering, maybe. But not breaking. There was definitely no breaking involved."

"He's joking." Gus said quickly, noticing Vick starting to reach for her cell phone. "Shawn wouldn't break _or_ enter."

Vick glared at them both, but finally dropped her cell phone back into her pocket.

Shawn smiled brightly.

"Let's solve a murder!"

"Well, I say the butler did it." Henry muttered. "Let's eat."

Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Dad! Come on! It's Halloween! What better way to spend the scariest night of the year?"

"Eating!" Henry snapped, heading for the door.

"Yeah!" Lassiter agreed, following closely behind.

"Okay…" Shawn sighed. "Then I guess we'll never know."

"Know what?" Juliet asked.

"Who the best detective in the room is."

Henry and Lassiter both stopped dead in their tracks, slowly turning back around.

Shawn was grinning from ear-to-ear, knowing he had them both on the hook. Now he just had to reel them in…

"I just thought it'd be fun…" he continued, shaking his head sadly. "To have a little friendly competition. To see who the best is. To separate winners and losers…but I guess that kind of thing doesn't appeal to anyone here…"

Henry and Lassiter were both scowling now, but they came back into the room.

"All right, Shawn." Henry grunted. "I'll play your little game. But I'm telling you right now…there'd better be a damn dinner at the end of it!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Good. Then we're all in." Shawn smiled victoriously, stepping out into the hallway.

A moment later, he came back into the study, carrying five brightly-wrapped boxes and five manila envelopes. He passed one to each of the guests, except for Buzz, who was still lying motionless on the floor.

"What are these?" Vick asked, tearing her envelope open.

"Your identities." Shawn informed them. "Tonight, you may all be thankful for the use of a pseudonym."

"Do I get to be the smart-ass psychic?" Lassiter asked mockingly, also ripping into his envelope.

One by one, they each pulled a name tag out of their envelopes.

Henry was the first to react.

"Scarlet?" He read angrily, glaring at his son. "Why the hell do _I_ have to be Scarlet, Shawn?"

"Because that's what color your face turns when you yell at me." Shawn told him simply.

"Then why am _I_ Green?" Gus demanded, tossing the tag on the table and refusing to put it on.

"Because. Admit it, Gus. You've always been slightly jealous of me. You know…green with envy."

"_Jealous?_" Gus snorted. "Jealous of _what_?"

"How about the fact that I got a date with Becky Nortingham in seventh grade, and she wouldn't even give you the time of day?"

"Becky Nortingham thought your name was Steve." Gus pointed out. "You weren't exactly close to marrying her, Shawn."

"We still had a date."

"I'm not jealous!"

"Tell that to your tear-soaked pillow!"

Before Gus could rebut, Lassiter stepped in, also unhappy with his assigned identity.

"Mustard?" He growled, crumpling his name tag up and cramming it into his pocket. "What the hell does Mustard mean?"

"Well," Shawn grinned. "It's mustard…so it'll never _ketchup_!"

He laughed at his own bad pun, but Lassiter was not amused. His eyes narrowed humorlessly.

"Catch up with _who?_"

"The butler, of course."

"Uh, Shawn…" Juliet interrupted, not complaining about her name, exactly. She was just confused by it. "I think there's a mistake."

"What?"

"My name tag just says White."

"That's right." Shawn nodded.

Juliet tilted her head, perplexed.

"Why Ms. White?" She asked.

"I just told you. It rhymes with Right."

He turned preemptively to Chief Vick before she could even say anything about her namevtag.

"Before you ask…I'm not gonna lie, Chief." He told her. "You're Plum because it was the only name left. I couldn't really make my dad Plum…he's more Prune at this point."

"Watch it, Kid." Henry snapped.

Shawn ignored the veiled threat, moving on breezily.

"Shall we discuss possible murder weapons now?" He asked.

Buzz suddenly raised his hand from the floor, remaining facedown.

"Yes, Mr. Boddy?" Shawn acknowledged him.

Buzz lifted his head.

"If you're going to do murder weapons, can I take my break now? Because my legs are falling asleep…and I really have to pee." He added in a whisper.

Shawn sighed.

"Go ahead." He relented. "Just leave your sign up."

"Thanks."

Buzz quickly stood up and practically ran out of the room for the bathroom.

Before he left, he put a small cardboard sign in the center of the chalk outline on the floor.

BE BACK IN FIVE MINUTES.

As soon as he was gone, Shawn continued with the exposition.

"You all have been given a possible murder weapon." He intoned. "Please open your boxes now."

This time, Lassiter was first.

He seemed almost eager to get his hands on a weapon.

"A candlestick?" He grimaced in disappointment, pulling the item out of his box and glancing up at Shawn. "What the hell kind of lame weapon is _that_?"

"Don't blame me." Shawn shrugged. "I didn't invent the game."

"It's not even heavy!" Lassiter argued, slamming it angrily on the mantle. "It's a birthday candle holder!"

"It's all I could find."

Chief Vick already had her box open.

She pulled out a gun.

"That _my_ gun!" Henry shouted when he saw it.

"Relax, Dad. It's not loaded." Shawn assured him.

"That's not the point!" Henry snapped, opening his own box. "You can't just take my stuff whenever--"

He stopped mid-sentence as he pulled out a rather large piece of PVC pipe. He stared at it for a long moment.

"Shawn…" he growled finally. "Is this the PVC pipe from my garage?"

"No…"

"Shawn!"  
"Of course it is!" Shawn rolled his eyes. "Do you know how hard it is to find _actual_ lead pipe? Let me save you some time, Dad. It's _all_ your stuff. Okay?"

Henry watched in dumbfounded rage as Juliet pulled _his_ wrench out of her box and Gus pulled out a large segment of braided rope that should have been at _his_ house tying back _his_ drapes.

He took a step towards his son, wondering vaguely which potential murder weapon would be the most effective, but at that moment Buzz came running back into the room. He plopped back down on the floor, moving the cardboard sign and giving Shawn the thumbs-up.

"Okay!" He grinned. "I'm back. Someone can murder me now."


	3. Chapter 3

"Speaking of brutally murdering McNab…" Lassiter spoke up, but was cut off by Juliet before he could finish his thought.

"No one said anything about _brutally_,_"_ she pointed out.

Lassiter scowled at her.

"It was implied." He grunted, turning back to Shawn. "Anyway, just how the hell is this little game of yours going to work, Spencer? I mean, how are we supposed to know _what_ killed him, never mind _who_ killed him, when he's not even really dead? You can't autopsy a live body."

"Well, not more than once." Shawn agreed.

"He's right, Shawn." Gus chimed in. "How are we supposed to find clues to help solve a crime that didn't even really happen?"

An evil grin spread across Shawn's face.

"That's what you have to figure out. All I'm going to tell you is that somewhere in this house, I've planted every clue you will need to figure out not only who the killer is, but also what weapon they used. The rest is up to you. From this moment on, everyone is their character. Everyone is a suspect."

"What about _you?_" Lassiter snapped.

Shawn smiled smugly, looking quite satisfied with himself.

"I'm merely the humble butler, Sir."

"Yeah, right." Henry muttered, rolling his eyes. "Humble…"

Shawn ignored the sarcasm.

"Let the games begin!" He intoned gravely, just as another clap of thunder echoed through the room.

* * *

Once the game officially began, the first place Henry went was the kitchen.

Alone.

He wasn't the least bit interested in playing Shawn's little game. He just wanted to figure out Shawn's angle, crack the "case", and get some dinner.

And if he _happened_ to do it before anyone else…

He was rapping on the kitchen wall with his knuckles when Juliet walked in.

"Oh. Hi." She smiled brightly. "I didn't know anyone else was in here."

He just grunted, not wanting to encourage an actual conversation.

At this point, conversation would only impede his progress.

She watched silently as he continued to throw open cabinets and feel the wall behind all the counters.

"Looking for a secret panel or something?" She asked.

Henry stopped working and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, apparently debating whether or not he wanted to respond.

Finally, he shrugged and began to start looking behind the large picture frames.

"Yeah. If I remember the Clue game board right, and if I know the way my idiot son thinks…there should be a secret passage around here somewhere."

"Secret passage?" Juliet laughed. "Do you really think Shawn would be able to find--"

She stopped herself from completing the sentence.

They both knew the answer.

Of _course_ Shawn would.

Juliet joined Henry at the wall and started to knock on it herself, listening for a hollow spot.

"So…you used to be on the force, right?" She asked casually, her ear pressed up against the wall.

Henry sighed, finally just resigning himself to his fate.

He was going to have to talk to her.

"Yeah."

"I thought so. Shawn talks about you all the time."

Henry raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, but didn't say anything.

"Well…he talks about you." Juliet corrected herself, clearing her throat delicately as she realized that her little white lie hadn't gone over as well as she had hoped.

She could feel Henry's piercing eyes watching her every move, slowly wearing her down.

"…I knew he had a dad…" she sighed, finally landing somewhere near the truth.

Henry laughed.

"That sounds like Shawn."

"Well, that's not _all_ I know." She added quickly. "Now I also know that, apparently, your face turns red when you yell at him. And you're a pretty good handyman, too."

This one took Henry by surprise.

"How do you figure?" He asked, trying not to sound even remotely impressed as he hung the picture frame back up.

She just shrugged, raising her hand and casually pulling down on one of the ornate candleholders that was built into the kitchen wall.

"Not everyone owns their own pipe wrench," she explained breezily.

Henry opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the wall opened up.

Juliet quickly released the candleholder, as surprised as Henry by her discovery. They stared into the black hole in front of them, for a long moment neither of them saying anything.

"Is it--?" She started to ask quietly.

Henry just nodded.

"Yeah."

She grinned broadly.

"I knew those old movies would pay off someday."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Detective Lassiter!"

Lassiter groaned as he stepped into the hall and heard Buzz's voice calling after him.

"I thought you were dead, McNab," he growled as Buzz jogged to catch up.

"I am." Buzz nodded happily. "But I had to take a break. I shouldn't have had those two sodas..."

"Yeah." Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I hear that all the time from murder victims…"

He started to walk just a little faster, hoping Buzz would live up to his name and just buzz off…but he didn't.

He kept buzzing around, never more than a step behind.

"Anyway," Buzz continued, oblivious to the fact that he was practically running now to keep up with Lassiter. "I put my sign up. It says I'll be back in five minutes."

He carefully looked left and right to make sure no one could overhear, then leaned forward conspiratorially.

"…But I don't _really_ have to be back in five minutes." He whispered. "No one's counting."

"_I'm _counting." Lassiter growled, whirling around and starting the timer on his watch. "Oh." Buzz blinked in surprise, stopping in his tracks.

Lassiter smiled to himself and marched on, convinced he had finally gotten through to him.

A second later, however, Buzz was by his side once again.

"I guess I can just help you for five minutes." He shrugged. "Then I have to get back. Sorry."

Lassiter exhaled sharply, now completely exasperated.

"I don't need help, McNab!" He snapped, throwing the library door open and stepping inside.

The walls were covered with ancient, dusty books. Most of the titles had worn off the spines, but Lassiter could still make out a few of them even in the dim light.

"Wow…" Buzz gave a low whistle. "That's a lot of books."

"A lot of books no one reads," Lassiter added, his eyes running up and down the walls as he slowly walked around. "There has to be an inch of dust covering this place. No one's been in here for a long time."

"Why would you have a roomful of books you don't read?" Buzz wondered to himself as he ran his finger over one of the shelves, leaving a trail in the dust.

"To convince morons you're smart."

"Oh…" Buzz nodded slowly, the wheels beginning to turn.

He wiped his dirty fingers off on his pants.

"…Does that work?" He asked a moment later.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and headed for the door again.

"No."

"Oh."

"There's nothing in here, McNab."

Lassiter headed back into the hall. Buzz started to follow, but paused as something on one of the bookshelves caught his eye…something stark white against the black dust. He reached in between two books and pulled out a small envelope.

"Does that mean this isn't a clue, then?" He asked, holding it up.

Lassiter scowled.

From anyone else, that would've been a smart-ass comment…but from Buzz, even he knew it was completely innocent.

That didn't stop him from snatching the envelope out of his hand, however.

"Give me that!"

He ripped it open and pulled out a sheet of paper.

It was a professional-looking grid that listed all the Clue suspects and weapons, followed by five columns of boxes. The bottom of the page had been torn off, and the boxes next to Prof. Plum and Revolver had checkmarks in them.

"What the hell is it?" Lassiter mumbled, his brow furrowed.

Buzz glanced over his shoulder.

"Didn't you ever play Clue?" He grinned.

Lassiter's scowl only deepened.

"Do I _look_ like I spent my childhood playing stupid games?" He demanded hotly.

"No, Sir!...I just meant, it's from Clue. All the players get one of those. When you figure out someone didn't do it, or they didn't use a certain weapon, you check it off. You do the same thing with the rooms, but that part's not on this paper. Someone ripped it off. Anyway, at the end of the game, whatever you don't have checked off is the solution."

Buzz was standing taller now, feeling quite proud of himself, but Lassiter was only half-listening to his rare moment of expertise. He was too busy examining the bookshelf where the envelope had been found to really pay attention.

"How the hell did Spencer get this in here without disturbing any of the dust?" He murmured.

"He's psychic!" Buzz explained, apparently not realizing that psychic powers don't typically include the ability to not disturb dust.

Lassiter just stared at him in silent disbelief.

"Don't you have to go be dead somewhere?" He muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

Chief Vick saw the shoebox-sized package sitting in the corner of the conservatory the moment she walked in.

It was hard to miss.

It was wrapped in bright green paper that was speckled with some kind of pattern. As she drew nearer to it, she saw the pattern was tiny pineapples.

It was definitely from Shawn.

She picked it up carefully and gave it a gentle shake.

"Don't open it, Chief." A voice from behind her spoke up.

She whirled around as Gus entered the room.

"Mr. Guster! What--?"

But Gus wasn't listening to her. He was staring at the box in her hands as if he expected it to explode at any moment.

"Don't open it," he said again.

"Why not?"

"Because I've known him for twenty years. Trust me. With Shawn, you never open the box."

Vick laughed and carefully put it back down where she had found it.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" She asked.

"Did I ever tell you about Mexico…?" He murmured, rolling his eyes as he began to walk around the room, searching for non-potentially lethal clues.

"No."

"Actually…" he continued plaintively, pulling back the large, heavy drapes that framed the picture window. "That time I _should_ have opened the box…twice."

Vick laughed again and started to turn over the couch cushions.

Nothing.

Not even loose change.

"I think the box is the only clue in here," she determined finally. "At least, I can't find anything else. Are you sure we shouldn't open it?"

"Not unless you want to get sprayed, slimed, showered or shocked."

Gus was adamant on this point, but Vick didn't look convinced.

"You really think he'd do that?"

"No. I _know_ he'd do that."

Vick picked the box up again, just out of curiosity. She slowly turned it over in her hands, looking for the seams in the wrapping paper. Taped to the bottom was a small note card she had somehow failed to notice earlier.

She pulled it off as she read it aloud.

"'Gus: Don't be a wimp. Just open the box.'"

"It doesn't say that!" Gus grabbed the card in disbelief and read it himself.

It _did_ say that.

"I don't care _what_ he says! I am _not _opening the box!" He fumed, ripping the card to shreds and tossing it on the floor. He kicked at the scraps bitterly, sending them drifting through the air, but it was too late. He couldn't erase their message from his mind.

_Don't be a wimp, Gus. _

_Don't be a wimp, Gus. _

How the heck did Shawn do it?

How did always know?

"You really don't trust him, do you?" Vick observed, shaking her head in quiet amusement.

"He's my best friend." Gus protested, grabbing the box out of her hand. "I'd trust him with my life…but _not_ my brand new white shirt."

Even as the words came out of his mouth, however, he was already starting to unwrap the box. He tore through the paper and hesitantly lifted one of the flaps, then quickly held it away from his face.

Nothing happened.

He slowly lowered it again and peered inside, just as the mechanism went off, covering him and his brand new white shirt in a shower of sticky, bright orange liquid.

"Shawn!" He shouted, drop kicking the box across the room. "I'm going to _kill_ you!"

"What is it?" Vick asked, trying her best to suppress a laugh. "It smells like pineapple juice."

"It _is_ pineapple juice." Gus muttered. "I think it's supposed to be fake blood. But the yellow in the juice turned the red dye orange."

"But is it a clue? Or just a trap?"

"I'd say a psychic flash." Gus growled, storming for the door. "This shirt cost me fifty bucks! I'm gonna _kill_ him!"


	6. Chapter 6

Juliet and Henry emerged from the almost total darkness of the passage into the dimly-lit study, where the fireplace was still burning but the lights were off now.

"Well, that was a waste of time." Henry muttered with a sigh, looking around the room.

Juliet nodded in agreement.

"It looks like our body had to take another bathroom break." She laughed, pointing to the vacant chalk outline in the middle of the floor, which still bore the BE BACK IN FIVE MINUTES sign.

Henry rolled his eyes and went for the door, but before he could take two steps it flew open, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Gus stormed in angrily, his white shirt dripping wet and….orange?

"Where's Shawn?" He shouted before Henry and Juliet could say anything.

"What happened?" Juliet asked, caught somewhere between being concerned and laughing.

"Is that _pineapple juice?_" Henry added with a disgusted look.

"Yes!"

"Why is it orange?"

"Because Shawn's a moron!"

"Hey. I'm not the one who opened the box." A voice from behind them spoke. They all spun around as Shawn sauntered into the room, followed shortly thereafter by Chief Vick.

Gus' eyes narrowed into furious slits when he saw his best friend.

"Shawn!" He growled. "This shirt cost me fifty bucks!"

"Then why'd you open the box?"

"Because!...you….called me a wimp."

His voice trailed off at the end. It hadn't sounded so stupid in his head…

Shawn opened his mouth to rebut, but was cut-off by another angry voice right behind him.

This one, however, wasn't yelling at him.

"McNab!" It snapped. "It's been five minutes! Go be dead!"

Lassiter and Buzz walked into the room. They looked surprised to see everyone else was already there.

"Guster!" Lassiter blinked when he saw Gus' shirt. "Why the hell is your shirt orange?"

"It's fake blood." Gus retorted.

"Blood's not orange." Buzz informed him, suddenly on a roll as an expert. "It's red."

"I know." Gus muttered through clenched teeth.

"Blood doesn't smell like pineapple, either."

"I know."

Buzz cocked his head to the side, his eyelids half-closed as he regarded Gus' spotted shirt.

"I cut myself slicing a pineapple once…" he said thoughtfully, apparently to no one in particular.

"Shut up, McNab." Lassiter ordered.

"What?" Buzz asked innocently. "I did. They're slippery…the knife slipped…I bled like crazy."

"McNab!"

But Buzz didn't hear him. His mind was spinning as he looked at the weapons that were still scattered around the room.

The pipe…

The wrench…

The revolver…

The birthday candle…

Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the list of weapons they had found in the library, examining it for a moment before he finally broke out into a wide grin.

"I solved the case!" He beamed, then added with a contented sigh. "I've always wanted to say that…"

"_What?_" Lassiter snorted, crossing his arms in disbelief. "You did not."

"No, really." Buzz nodded earnestly. "I _have_ always wanted to say that."

"I mean you didn't solve the case!"

"Oh." Buzz blinked. "But, I did. I know who killed me!"

"How?" Gus demanded.

"Who was it?" Juliet asked.

Buzz proudly raised himself to his full height.

For once, all eyes were on him.

For once, he had the answer.

"It's just like Clue!" He grinned, waving the list through the air. "Whatever isn't checked off at the end is the answer!"

He walked spryly through the room, picking up the weapons one by one and making dramatic, swooping checkmarks in the air.

"Pipe…check. Wrench…check. Rope…check."

"McNab!" Lassiter shouted, his ears burning. "Get to the point!"

Buzz quickly dropped the rope.

"Yes, Sir!" He cleared his throat and continued. "The only weapon that isn't checked off is the knife."

He held up the paper and pointed at the empty box.

"See? Knife...no check."

He made a small, not very swoopy checkmark through the air this time, hoping Lassiter wouldn't yell at him again.

Juliet was smiling at him.

"Good wok, Buzz!" She said cheerfully. "But even if that's true, it still doesn't tell us who did it."

"Sure it does!" He grinned, absolutely bursting.

He was still the only one with the answer.

Hadn't _any_ of them ever played Clue before?

"Then who the hell was it?" Lassiter demanded.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Nope." Buzz shook his head. "But the killer is still in here…so, whoever has the knife did it!"

"You heard him," Shawn shrugged, slipping seamlessly back into his butler character. "Gentlemen, turn out your pockets. Ladies, empty your purses. Whoever has a knife is our killer."

They all shrugged and reluctantly tossed the contents of their pockets onto the coffee table.

Only Henry had a small pocket knife.

"It was _you!_" Buzz gasped, pointing at him.

Then, he suddenly looked very confused.

"What'd I ever do to _you?_" He asked, almost sounding offended by the unwarranted murder.

"I didn't do it." Henry growled, cramming the knife back in his pocket. "It's just a pocket knife. I always carry one. I have ever since Shawn was a--"

He stopped as the realization suddenly struck him.

"You set me up!" He accused, glaring at his son.

"I did not!" Shawn protested, but his evil grin belied his words.

Henry wasn't buying it for a moment.

"Yes, you did! You know I always carry a pocket knife! You set me up from the beginning!"

"What can I say?" Shawn shrugged innocently, still grinning from ear to ear. "I told you, Dad. All the weapons are yours."

**Chapter End Notes:**

_If you haven't seen the movie, let me explain something real quick._

_The best part of the movie is the multiple endings it has...how could I not include multiple endings in my story? So, fear not! This isn't the end...This is just ONE way it could have happened...:-)_

Previous 


	7. Chapter 7

**_That's one way it could have happened…_**

**_But how about this?_**

"…I've always wanted to say that." Buzz added with a contented sigh.

"You did not!" Lassiter snorted in disbelief.

"No, really." Buzz nodded earnestly. "It's true! I _have _always wanted to say that."

He cleared his throat deliberately, waiting until all eyes were finally on him, then opened his mouth to launch into his very first denouncement ever.

Before he could eek out one syllable, however, he was interrupted by a loud, booming voice from behind him.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" The voice demanded.

Suddenly, all eyes weren't on Buzz anymore. Now they were on the tall, gray-haired man with a suitcase who was standing in the study door glaring at them.

A petite woman with horned-rimmed glasses walked in behind him. Her eyes immediately fell questioningly on Shawn.

"Mr. Flugglehorn?" She asked in a high-pitched, nervous voice. "What's going on?"

"Flugglehorn?" Gus snorted, glancing at Shawn, who was already flashing his disarming "You-can't-be-mad-at-me-I'm-too-innocent" smile at the woman.

"Hi, Mrs. Peacock." He waved, then nodded at her husband. "Mr. Peacock. You're back early."

"We caught an earlier flight." Mrs. Peacock explained, eyeing all the strange people in her study suspiciously.

"What's going on here?" Lassiter demanded.

"That's what _I_ want to know!" Mr. Peacock shot back, dropping his suitcase on the floor and marching into the room. He immediately went toe-to-toe with the detective.

"This is _my_ house." He growled, his eyes narrowing. "Mr. Flugglehorn was watching it for us while we went on vacation. Who are _you?_"

Lassiter narrowed his eyes right back, not about to be intimidated.

He whipped out his badge.

"Detective Lassiter. SBPD." He intoned gravely.

"The police!" Mrs. Peacock gasped. "Is everything okay, Mr. Flugglehorn?"

"Yeah…" Shawn assured her quickly. "I just…thought I heard prowlers…so I called the police."

Mr. Peacock and Lassiter were still glaring at each other like two wolves with only one piece of meat.

"That explains _you_." Mr. Peacock snapped at him, then pointed at the rest of the crowd. "But who're the _rest_ of the peanut gallery?"

Everyone exchanged slightly bewildered looks, suddenly not sure themselves who they were.

Juliet finally went first.

"Hi." She smiled, quite prudently opting to address Mrs. Peacock rather than Mr. Peacock. "I'm Detective O'Hara…I'm…here looking for prowlers, too…apparently."

Vick stepped forward commandingly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Peacock, I'm Chief Karen Vick. These are my detectives. Let me assure you that we take reports of breaking and entering very seriously at the SBPD."

She glared at Shawn, then added emphatically.

"_Very_ seriously."

Shawn just continued to grin as if he didn't have a thing in the world to worry about.

Gus snorted, just glad that for once he wasn't involved.

He wasn't going to have to sit through Vick's lecture.

He almost hoped she'd actually arrest Shawn this time…and maybe make him pay for the ruined shirt before she let him out of jail…

His snort, however, had attracted the attention of Mr. Peacock.

"What about _you?_" He snapped at Gus, tearing him away from the pleasant daydream of seeing his best friend behind bars.

"Me?" Gus blinked, his mind suddenly going blank. "I'm uh…Shawn Spencer."

He extended his hand formally, his eyes glinting with pride at his fast thinking.

"I'm a psychic," he added. "I work for the police department…I annoy people…and my hair is no where near as great as I _think_ it is."

This time, it was Lassiter's turn to snort.

Mr. Peacock ignored it.

"Why is your shirt orange?" He demanded, refusing to shake Gus' hand.

"Because I'm a moron." Gus muttered, quickly withdrawing it.

That just left Henry and Buzz. Henry was standing behind the couch, his arms crossed defiantly.

Mr. Peacock turned his attention to him next, but Henry refused to play this game.

"I just came for dinner…" he muttered.

"I'm the body!" Buzz piped up, sensing it was his turn. "_And_ I cracked the case!"

He paused, waiting for someone to ask him to go on and explain who did it, but no one did.

Finally, he gave up.

He quietly picked up the BE BACK IN FIVE MINUTES sign and handed it to Mr. Peacock.

"You can keep the sign." He told him as he made a quick bolt for the door.

Mr. Peacock stared down at it, more confused and angry than ever.

There was a long, awkward silence as every tried desperately to think of some way to make a hasty, discrete retreat.

Finally, Shawn cleared his throat.

"Can I interest anyone in fruit or dessert?" He asked.


	8. Chapter 8

**But here's how it REALLY happened...**

"I know who killed me!" Buzz declared, waving the list through the air.

"What's that in your hand?" Juliet asked, seeing the paper for the first time.

"The list of weapons and suspects…you know, from the game."

"Really?" Gus reached over and grabbed it out of his hand.

"Wait!" Buzz protested, trying to get it back. "I figured it out! I know who--"

But no one was listening to him anymore. Juliet and Gus quickly looked over the new clue while Henry and Lassiter just exchanged "What the hell are we even doing here?" looks from across the room.

"Well, it looks like Chief Vick is off the hook," Juliet sighed, pointing to the checkmark next to her name. "Whatever's not checked off by the end is the answer, right?"

"Of course it wasn't the Chief!" Buzz snorted. "She wouldn't murder me!"

"Thank you, Buzz." Karen smiled appreciatively.

He grinned back at her.

"I know it wasn't you." He gushed, his ears turning just slightly pink. "I figured it out! I-"

But before he could launch into his very first denouncement ever, he was once again cut-off by Juliet and Gus, who were on a roll of their own now.

"Wait…" Gus was saying, examining the list more closely. "…if you check off everything that's _not_ the solution…"

"…Does that mean we check off everything we have in front of us?" Juliet finished the thought for him, suddenly breaking out into a wide grin. "Gus, you're a genius!"

"No!" Buzz almost shouted. "_I'm_ a genius! I--"

"—That means that all the weapons we have in here are the ones that _weren't_ used!" Gus concluded, taking a quick mental inventory and comparing it to the list in front of him. "Which means…it was the knife! The murder weapon was the knife! It's the only one we can't check off."

"It has to be!" Juliet agreed excitedly.

Buzz was nearly beside him as he tried desperately to get _someone_ to listen to him.

"I know!" He howled. "I figured--"

Lassiter reached over him and grabbed the list out of Gus' hand.

"Give me that!" He snapped, then suddenly turned on Buzz. "McNab! You're the game expert! Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me any of this?"

Now that all eyes were actually on him, Buzz froze like a deer in the headlights.

"I—" he stammered.

"Never mind." Lassiter rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the list. "If the murder weapon is that easy to figure out, the murderer must be, too. All we have to do is figure out which of these stupid names isn't someone here….if the Chief gets a check next to her name, we must all get checks…"

"That part's easy." Gus spoke up. "Peacock. No one was Peacock."

"Then, that's our killer." Lassiter said firmly, handing the list back to Gus. "Case closed."

"But how is that possible?" Juliet asked. "How could someone who doesn't exist be the killer? Isn't it supposed to be one of us?"

Everyone looked at each other, completely baffled by this brand new quandary.

"I don't know," Lassiter muttered. "But Peacock, whoever the hell that is, is the killer. It's the only possible answer."

He snatched the list out of Gus' hand one more time, reading the names over with a sneer.

"Who the hell came up with these names, anyway?" He demanded. "Mustard? What kind of name is that? And _Peacock?_ I hate peacocks. Damn annoying birds never shut up."

"And they strut around like they own everything," Gus agreed. "They think they're so great, just because they have those feathers…"

Suddenly, he and Lassiter looked at each other, their eyes wide as they were struck by the same thought.

"You!" They snapped, whirling around at the same time and pointing accusing fingers at Shawn, who was standing silently by the fireplace, watching the scene unfold in amusement.

"Me what?" He blinked innocently.

"You did it!" Lassiter said. "You're Peacock!"

Shawn gasped, absolutely horrified.

"_Me? _How do you figure _that?_"

"You never shut up!" Lassiter insisted.

"And you strut around like you own everything!" Gus added. "And you _do _think a lot of your hair…"

Shawn looked hurt.

"Gus," he clucked, shaking his head. "First of all, my hair is awesome. And, secondly…if you're still looking for that knife, it's in my back."

Gus rolled his eyes.

"But it makes sense, Shawn! You gave us all names that had some kind of meaning, but you never told us what _your _name in this little game was!"

"That's right!" Lassiter suddenly realized. "You said you gave Chief Vick her name because it was the only one left. Which means you must have given Peacock to someone else…but there _is_ no one else, Spencer. No one else but _you! You're _the killer!"

He grinned from ear-to-ear, for once in his life having Shawn beat cold.

"I always knew I'd nail you for _something_, Spencer."

"It was _you?_" Buzz gasped, looking at Shawn with wide, wounded eyes. "_You_ killed me?"

Shawn grinned evilly, his eyebrows arching, but didn't admit to anything.

He didn't have to.

Buzz marched resolutely over to the chalk outline of his body and picked up the BE BACK IN FIVE MINUTES sign.

"In that case," he stated firmly, handing the sign back to Shawn. "I'm _definitely_ taking ten minutes this time."


End file.
